


Rose-colored glasses

by fire_head_girl



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M, Other, a tiny ficlet, and if he’s gotta pretend to be dahlia to do it, i love a sassy crime lady, just a drabble really, let juno steel be gay do crimes 2K19, then by god nureyev will find a way to make that happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_head_girl/pseuds/fire_head_girl
Summary: i don’t know i just love them both so much okay





	Rose-colored glasses

They’re three-quarters of the way down the hall when Nureyev pauses and cocks his head, listening intently.

“I thought you said the guard patrol wasn’t due this way for another six minutes!” Juno hisses.

“Ah, well, the best-laid plans of—” He steps closer, into Juno’s space, and his voice gets louder, more excitable. “Look, Dahlia dearest, wouldn’t this one look just _perfect_ in the living room? You know, over that Mercurian statue you love so—”

“Cut it out, _Duke_ ,” Juno growls. Right then, a guard rounds the corner. Juno rolls his eyes, for effect. “Just…” he takes a breath. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

Kissing Peter Nureyev was like… like nothing else, really. A wholly singular, indescribable experience; soft lips and softer moans and hands in his hair and that smell, that goddamn intoxicating cologne…

“Excuse me! You aren’t supposed to be up here,” the guard stammers. Juno doesn’t stop, can’t stop, doesn’t even need air the way he needs Nureyev’s lips on his. He’s completely lost in the feel of this man. Nureyev pushes at him, weakly, before breaking away and turning to face the guard. “Oh, dear!” His voice is breathy, and Juno’s gotta hand it to him—he plays the smitten husband well.

Juno glances over briefly, wrinkles his nose, then leans in to suck at Nureyev’s neck. He’s committed to the thing, sure, but more importantly: from this angle, he can retrieve the blaster tucked into the waistband of Nureyev’s pants without the guard noticing.

“S-sorry,” Nureyev gasps. “Dahlia’s just—ah!—un _stop_ pable when he gets like—”

Juno fires. The guard drops.

“Well… nice shot, detective.”

Maybe it was Nureyev’s voice that did it, Juno wonders later; he sounded flustered and a bit awed and so turned on. Or maybe Juno was getting better at channeling Dahlia than he thought. All he knows is that _something_ came over him, possessed him and opened his mouth and tumbled out the words, dry and quick and smooth as silk:

“I had my lucky charm, didn’t I?”

Nureyev can’t help but kiss him again.


End file.
